


A Study in Futility

by exbex



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:06:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/exbex/pseuds/exbex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The humor might be lost if you haven't seen "Say Anything". Of course, the humor might be lost anyway, as I can't vouch for the quality of this fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Study in Futility

Sherlock has either grown a sense of humor during his time away, or he’s so socially awkward that he thinks that serenading John with 1980s pop music on the violin is an appropriate way of apologizing.

John just scowls and shoves a pillow over his head.

Reflecting on the absurdity of the situation proves futile, as always. John has never been good at lying to himself, or to anyone else, for that matter (which of course, is why Sherlock had to construct such an elaborate ruse that John couldn’t be privy to, John knows this, but it doesn’t make it sting any less). Things will always be this way, because Sherlock will always lead, and John will always follow.

And John is so weary of being so angry. So he throws the covers off and walks downstairs. Sherlock actually has the temerity to finish the entire song before lowering his bow.

The silence hangs precariously between them, before John breaks it. “Really Sherlock? Peter Gabriel?”

Sherlock sets the violin down before replying. “Honestly John, you only have yourself to blame. It’s only by your insistence upon exposing me to popular culture that I…”

John doesn’t let him finish, pulling him into a fierce hug. Sherlock, surprised, returns the hug, at first awkwardly, then more comfortably.

“Well, then.” Sherlock is experiencing one of his rare moments of speechlessness as they pull away.

John suddenly doesn’t know where to put his hands. “Right. Let’s just…we don’t have to talk about it.” John tells himself it’s because they don’t need words, but then, if Peter Gabriel is going to stand in for words…. “Come have some breakfast and tell me about it,” he decides finally, and doesn’t miss the look of relief on Sherlock’s face.


End file.
